Jack Daniels is My Friend
by bottle monkey
Summary: I don’t even need a white horse, or anything; I drive around in a valiant taxi cab.


**Jack Daniels is My Friend**

Puff, puff, pass.

Jude's lips closed around the joint and he breathed in slowly, making the feeling last. His lungs burned with pleasure, body filling up with bliss and his head tilted back. A sweet fog started to build over the room and he passed the blunt to his best friend, who immediately grabbed it from Jude's fingers.

"Man," Max breathed out, a stream of smoke escaping his mouth. "I forgot how good this feels."

"What's it been, a day?" Jude quipped.

"More like three," Max replied. "Or four. Entirely too long of a time, anyway."

Jude bit his bottom lip, head resting against the foot of Max's bed. "This stuff is kind of weak."

"Yeah, I got it from one of Pru's friends," Max said in way of explanation, and he really didn't have to say anything after that. "He said you could see your dead relatives, or something? But it only cost me like a dollar, so I'm pretty sure he was bullshitting me."

"It's better than nothing," Jude offered, lazily shrugging his shoulders. The blonde stayed quiet, and Jude figured that the silence was Max's way of agreeing. The normally busy apartment was empty, except for them of course, and Jude couldn't help but enjoy that sluggish kind of silence. Max groaned a little, a deep noise in the back of his throat.

"I think I might've left my whiskey in my cab," he mumbled, sounding both apologetic and agitated. Jude shot him a skeptical look, which Max immediately picked up on and rolled his eyes in return. "It's not like I was drinking it on the job, I was saving it for tonight. I'm not that irresponsible, as hard as it may be to believe."

Jude chewed on his lip. "It's fine, we don't need it."

The American sat up, resting his weight on his elbows. "Jude, if you think I'm spending a Friday night sober, you're crazy. And I'm not drinking any of your shitty Limey stuff, either."

"Well, what are you going to do, sneak into the lot after hours?"

Max smirked.

…

"Can't you lose your job for this?" Jude peeked over his shoulder, jiggling his leg in a fit of nervous energy. His lips were chapped from the cold and he shivered a little. Despite many, many refusals to join Max in breaking and entering, he'd finally decided to come along. It was funny how Max got him to do things he'd never dream of doing in a million years. "I mean, you're an employee and everything, but isn't this illegal?"

"Would you relax?" Max grimaced at his friend, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the frozen metal fence and lifted himself off the ground. Fingers laced around the metal loops, he looked down at Jude. "Seriously, it's like you've transformed into another Lucy. It's fine; it's not like I'm stealing anything. I'm just going to go into the lot, grab my booze, and run like hell if a security guard spots me."

Jude stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching as Max leapt over to the other side. "Well, I'm sorry if I don't like the idea of you going to jail. And I don't want you to get fired, either."

The blonde wiped his hands off on his jeans. "Aw, Judey cares about me."

"No other place'll hire you."

Max let out a heavy breath. "You know, you always ruin these moments."

"Since you're already trespassing," Jude started, peering through the fence with impatience, "you might as well get what you came for. And be quick about it."

"Okay," Max furrowed his eyebrows, but he turned around nonetheless. Seconds later, he'd vanished behind a corner. Jude stood there, hunched over to fight the cold, waiting. He hated waiting. He was probably the most impatient person he could think of. And this whole experience was made even more unpleasant by the fact that at any moment, an overweight security guard with authority issues and low self-esteem could show up and drag them downtown.

The sound of a car door opening, shutting closed. A blur of blonde hair jogging back over to the fence, and Max was holding a bottle over his head. "Victory is mine; tonight, we drink!"

"Max, shut up," Jude laughed, catching the bottle as Max flung it over to him. "Someone will hear you."

"What, a guy can't celebrate?" Max hopped back over the fence with unexpected agility. The two scampered quickly away from the lot, not bothering to look over their shoulders. "I just risked life and limb out there."

Jude let out a grin. "Oh, my hero."

"You know it," the blonde replied. "I don't even need a white horse, or anything; I drive around in a valiant taxi cab."

"Yeah," Jude nodded, walking clumsily along the sidewalk. "And Brigitte Bardot can be your damsel in distress."

"God, yes," Max laughed, drumming his fingers along the bottle. "And you'll be my sidekick."

Jude reached over and grabbed the whiskey from Max's hands. "I will _not_ be your sidekick, Carrigan."

"But what if you're my devastatingly handsome sidekick, like the Dean Martin to my Jerry Lewis?"

"That I can deal with," the artist said, a concerned look on his face. "This bottle feels a bit light, Max."

Max kept walking. "You know, I understand that you're big and strong and everything, but you don't have to rub it in my face…"

"No, I mean, it feels empty," Jude worked to get the top off, biting the inside of his mouth with his efforts. "_Max_, it's empty."

"What're you talking about? I just bought it this morning," Max snatched the Jack Daniels from Jude's hands. "Did you drink it?"

"Yes, I just downed a whole bottle of whiskey in matter of seconds," Jude glared at him. "You must've finished it off without realizing."

Max shook his head, face still full of disbelief. "No, I literally just bought it this morning and stuck it under the passenger seat for later…oh."

Jude raised his eyebrows. "Oh, what?"

"I must've grabbed the wrong one."

"Max, how many bottles of whiskey do you have in your taxi?"

He hesitated. "…Not a lot."

The brunette rolled his eyes and continued walking back towards their apartment. "Well, we're not going back."

"Why not?" Max asked, walking briskly to catch up with him.

"Because, I have some perfectly good English brew at home."

Max tossed the empty bottle on the ground behind them, listening to the satisfying and yet miserable sound of broken glass.

…

**so, yet another story about nothing :) i just love writing about jude and max because i really like the dynamics of their relationship.** _review if you want to; i love any kind, glowing praise or constructive criticism._


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